


beneath the doorway

by mechanicalUniverses



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anniversary, Established Relationship, Ficlet, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Short & Sweet, super fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:34:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22054147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mechanicalUniverses/pseuds/mechanicalUniverses
Summary: Aziraphale wanted to kiss Crowley very, very badly. The thing is, he just can’t bring himself to do it. He’s determined to change that tonight.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 76





	beneath the doorway

**Author's Note:**

> hi, the author needed to be extraordinary gay for a hot second :,) enjoy!

Aziraphale wanted to kiss Crowley very, very badly.

They’d been… involved in a romantic sense ( _dating_ , Aziraphale sighed to himself, but he couldn’t make himself say it yet) for just short of a year now. Midnight tonight would be their anniversary, actually. They’d spent the entire day cuddled up on the couch together, planning the whole day out, and it was going to be one of the best days Aziraphale would ever have. He could tell just by the endless amount of knowing giggles and the daring whispers they’d shared.

But something was missing. And Aziraphale knew precisely what it was. Despite the time they’ve known each other, how long they’ve been together, despite their enthusiasm, despite everything, Aziraphale and Crowley have never once kissed. They held hands at restaurants and linked arms at St. James’ and cozied up together on Aziraphale’s couch, but they did not kiss.

No… No, that wasn’t true. Crowley loved to pick up Aziraphale’s hands and murmur promises into his knuckles and palms and wrists and—the point was, it wasn’t true. A correction was in order. They’d never kissed each other anywhere on their faces. No, that wasn’t right either. Crowley would frequently kiss Aziraphale’s forehead in lieu of a goodbye before he left the bookshop to cause some mischief. Yet another correction was needed.

 _Aziraphale_ had never kissed Crowley. He wanted to, with everything in his heart and soul, God did he want to kiss him. Countless hours were spent creating plan after plan, agonizing over the utmost perfect moment to do it. And then, when he finally thought he’d figured it out, he backed out at the last possible second, furious with himself. He didn’t understand why he did it. It wasn’t shyness, it wasn’t unpreparedness, and it certainly wasn’t some inane fear of rejection. Crowley wanted him to do it too; it was easy to tell when he perked up when Aziraphale drew near with a particular hesitancy in his smile and when he tried to hide his slump of disappointment when Aziraphale inevitably retreated into himself. 

_It’s okay, angel,_ Crowley soothed while Aziraphale seethed. _I get it. Seriously. You don’t have to push yourself for me. I’ll be right here when you’re ready._

Together, he and Crowley had set fire to the plans of Heaven and Hell’s War, humiliated them in their attempts to silence him and Crowley permanently, and ultimately carried on in the luxury of living on a perfectly intact Earth. They’d totally rejected Heaven and Hell in their vast entireties.

Almost.

Crowley claimed he was used to rejecting premeditated concepts of what he should and shouldn’t do because he’d been a demon for so long. But Aziraphale still had difficulty entirely moving out of the mindset Heaven expertly crafted for him to live in for his entire life. He’d gotten closer to leaving in the past year than he’d ever before; the place was empty of all loved items and furniture, the boxes were packed and ready to go. Still, Aziraphale hesitated in the doorway, staring through the open door at—what? Sentimentality? Nostalgia? It couldn’t be; there was nothing left for him in this place but blank walls. 

It was nearing midnight now. Most of London had already settled down for sleep but a few drunks and late-night clubbers. Aziraphale felt unusually tired, but in the warm, satisfied way one was after a good day. And today had been a good day, indeed.

“—and make sure to get those little lemon ones, yeah? Those are good.”

“Of course,” said Aziraphale. They had just finished up creating a packing list for a very overdue picnic. Giddiness was already threatening to take over Aziraphale’s good sense. “Oh, my dear,” he continued breathlessly, squeezing Crowley’s hand, “I’m terribly excited. I’ve been looking forward to this for ages.”

“The sentiment’s mutual, angel.” Crowley squeezed back and then sighed regretfully. “But if I don’t get going, I’m never going to get my stuff together, and I refuse to have a half-arsed picnic.”

Aziraphale rested his head on Crowley’s shoulder. “I know,” he said.

Gently, Crowley began to extract himself from their shared mess of tangled limbs, a task unashamedly hindered by Aziraphale as he kept dragging him back to hold him for just a little while longer. Eventually, though, Crowley’s tugs became less playful, and a more insistent, so Aziraphale reluctantly let him go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, angel,” Crowley said, a fond twinkle sparkling away in his eyes. Aziraphale pouted. “Oh, come off it. You’ve gone years without me before. You can survive for a few hours.”

“I _guess_ ,” huffed Aziraphale, which made Crowley chuckle.

“Alright, I’m off.” Crowley turned away and began to stride for the door. Aziraphale watched his retreating back, something unnamable pushing up through his chest.

_Now!_

Aziraphale called, “Wait!”

He stood up as Crowley’s body made a reappearance in the door. An odd little smile played across his lips. It seemed to know something Aziraphale didn’t, but he was curious to find out.

“Yes, angel?”

“It’ s—Tomorrow then?” Aziraphale took a short little step towards Crowley with each word, hands clasped together behind his back. “At noon?”

“Yep.”

“You’ll be there?”

Crowley peered at him over the top of his sunglasses. “You’re acting funny. When have I ever stood you up?”

Aziraphale chuffed. “It’s just nerves, my dear. I’ve never done this before. And to answer your question, well, never, I suppose. You’ve always been rather… selectively chivalrous, shall we say.”

He was in front of Crowley now, one hand resting on the doorway, the other discreetly wiping sweat off on his pants. That fond little smirk hadn’t faded.

“Soo, what’s up? Is there something you want to add to our list?” Crowley said with a small gesture. Aziraphale realized he’d been standing there and smiling gently without actually saying anything.

“O-oh. Just one thing.” Aziraphale blew out a short breath and moved his hand from the doorway to rest delicately on Crowley’s chest. His heart raced beneath Aziraphale’s trembling fingertips, and it stumbled as the beat became that much quicker. 

_Go on then. He wants you to. You want to. What’s stopping you?_

Aziraphale didn’t give himself the time to answer—then he might actually answer, and who knows what would happen if he did that. He stood on his toes, tilted his chin up, and kissed the very outermost corner of Crowley’s mouth as the old grandfather clock in the corner began to chime.

For a moment, a blaring alarm of _no!_ froze him. And then he melted as he felt Crowley’s smile grow beneath his lips. When he settled back onto flat ground, he made a conscious effort not to let the joyful glow inside of him start to literally buoy him up and off of the earth.

“That’s all I wanted to add,” he said softly as a silly grin spread across Crowley’s blush stained face.

“D’ya think you could add one more?” Crowley asked eagerly. Aziraphale ducked his head to hide his laugh.

“Tomorrow,” he responded breathlessly, eyes glittering, “when I see you in the morning.”

“I—yeah! Yes! M-morning, angel.”

“It’s getting quite late, actually,” Aziraphale teased. “Good night, my dear.”

“G’ni—Wait, what—”

Chuckling, Aziraphale went to close the door. Crowley quickly pulled it back open. Never one to be outdone, he stooped and brushed a light kiss on the tip of Aziraphale’s nose, just barely grazing his upper lip. 

“Oh!”

“Was that alright?” asked Crowley, rushed. “I—Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

“I think it was,” said Aziraphale, who was waiting on the harrowing daunt of shame and fear to fill him, the same one that’s stopped him hundreds of times before. It never did—there was no room spared for it beside the golden, bubbly sensation very nearly lifting him off of his feet. A delighted smile spread across his rosy cheeks. “Yes. Yes, that was fine.”

Crowley’s eyes flashed brightly. “Oho, fine, he says!” 

“Wonderful, even!”

“Whoa, don’t get too ahead of yourself there, angel.”

Their eyes met, and they laughed, naturally coming to each other to meet beneath the doorway. Aziraphale lightly bumped his forehead against Crowley’s shoulder, hiding his growing smile. 

_I love him,_ he thought dazedly, _Lord, do I love him._

He wanted to stay here beneath the doorway forever like this, tucked under Crowley’s chin with his arms wrapped around his shoulders. But he couldn’t. With a fond sigh, Aziraphale separated himself, but only just enough so that he could see all of Crowley’s glowing face. “Good night, darling.”

“Good night, angel.” Crowley pressed another kiss to his forehead, then finally began to separate himself. His hands lingered on Aziraphale’s sides even as he took a few steps back, until he finally began to saunter back to his car. Aziraphale waved as he opened the door to the Bentley. Crowley waved back and got in, the car’s door slamming shut with a finality that echoed down the quiet street. Just before he began to drive away, Aziraphale swore he saw Crowley fist-pump the air.

Giggling as the Bentley’s lights disappeared around a corner, Aziraphale finally shut the door. He leaned back against it, pressing his hand against his heart and grinning up at the ceiling. It thrummed beneath his fingers, reminding him of how grateful he was to be still alive and experience the sheer joy of being in love.

All of a sudden, he couldn’t stop laughing, these tiny bursts of pure elation that bubbled up from his chest and filled the quiet air of his shop. When he regained his composure, his smile had not faded in the slightest. Reverently, he touched his fingertip to his lip. With the closing of the car door, another door had also finally shut. No more looking back. He could finally walk away from that place, away to where Crowley was waiting for him.

With a happy sigh, Aziraphale bustled off into the shop. After all, he had an anniversary to get ready for.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah ik they say good night like three times but honestly, they would
> 
> thanks for reading!! if you wanna scream gomens with me, feel free to hit me up on my [blog!](https://scintillating-galaxias.tumblr.com/) i really wanna talk to y’all :D have a beautiful day!!


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